“Just a friend.”
“I don’t have friends,” the girl said.
Tarlen doubted there were many kids allowed on the Assembly fleet ships. Basel’s ship was moving away from the fleet facing off with Constantine, and he felt far more confident with controlling the vessel than he had when they’d disembarked from the hangar on Andron. It had been a sketchy few minutes as Treena had explained the dash levers and icons to him, while Luci whined about having to use the bathroom. In the end, they’d escaped unscathed, and he’d somehow managed to keep the Assembly captain’s kid from having a meltdown.
This was nothing like he’d expected when he’d signed up to stay on with the Concord, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. It seemed like wherever Constantine went, trouble followed.
“Tarlen, you’ve gone far enough. They can’t read you, but if they’re searching, they can see you,” Treena warned him.
“What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
Tarlen hoped it wasn’t for long. He zoomed on the four old cruise ships, and wondered what it was like during the War, racing around space in those vessels with smaller crews, danger lurking at every corner. He realized it wasn’t so different from what he was currently going through.
“They’re moving,” Tarlen said. “One of them is flying out.”
“Which one?” Treena asked.
He stared, seeing the oldest-looking ship heading toward Constantine at a slow in-system pace. “It’s Faen. The ugly one.”
“I always thought it had a sort of elegance in a symmetrical kind of way,” Treena told him through the earpiece.
“If you say so. Why would they be sending one of the ships over there?” he asked.
She paused, and Tarlen tried to tune out the constant flow of questions from the little girl beside him. “They could be doing a prisoner transfer, or…”
“Or what?”
“Constantine was drained, but Reeve said it can be recharged with enough energy. Faen would be able to do that,” she said.
“That means…” Tarlen worried they were too late.
“That means the captain has agreed to their terms. They’re going to fire up our ship and claim it as their own.”
Nineteen
The courtyard was buzzing with conversation: some quiet, some loud, but all adding to the effect of a busy room. The moment Tom stepped through the double doors, word spread of his arrival, and the entire center of the ship grew silent.
His crew moved to the side, creating a pathway as Tom was ushered forward, at least half a dozen guns aimed at his back as he walked toward the stage. It had only been three months since he’d first stood up there with Admiral Hudson beaming at his side, introducing him to the crew.
How had he gone from that moment to this one so quickly? Tom searched the inquisitive faces of his people and couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d failed them miserably. Some of them were crying; others appeared seething with rage. The Assembly soldiers were walking through the crowds, relieving everyone of their weapons. Not many carried guns on board Constantine, and the endeavor went quickly.
The room was backlit by emergency lights that were connected to the solar chargers, but they dimmed to a soft glow, meaning there was no power left on board the ship. The life support was gone. With so many people sealed into one room, they wouldn’t last long, not if the Assembly wanted to do away with them.
Lark Keen stood beside Tom at the front of the stage, his people setting up portable lights. “Get up there, Baldwin.” He gripped Tom’s bicep, and Tom broke free, climbing the handful of steps.
Lark was right behind him, smiling the whole way. He turned and posed for the people. Tom tried not to let his feeling of defeat show on his face, but it was a difficult task. Lark stood tall, straight-backed and confident, the opposite of how Tom felt at that moment.
“We are creating a historic moment on Constantine,” Lark began.
Something odd occurred, and Tom didn’t think anyone else noticed. Even in the dimly lit room, Tom was sure he saw his grandfather’s AI appear at the rear of the crowd, stage right. He couldn’t be sure, not with the bright lights shining on them, but when he squinted, trying to casually look to the side, he was almost positive.
If Constantine was there, it meant Reeve or someone else had directed power to their ship.
“The Concord has been disbanded. The Founders are crumbling, and regardless of what you’ve been told, there will be no real Concord within a standard year. No, things are disintegrating quickly. It’s time for a regime change, a strong hand to guide the partners the right direction. Welcome to …” Lark Keen peered at Tom, pausing for what could only be dramatic effect. You could have heard a pin drop in the courtyard. “The Assembly.”
The crowd gasped and mumbled at this. “Your good captain, Thomas Baldwin, has agreed to our terms.”
“And just what are those?” a voice asked. Tom saw it came from the first row, where the previously Prime-in-Waiting Harris stood, his anger evident in his venomous tone.
“Harris, I assumed you’d be here front and center. Sorry to hear about your dismissal. Better luck next time,” Keen said.
Harris didn’t waste a moment. He lunged for the steps, moving faster than Tom would have guessed. He was nearly on Keen when the blast struck Harris in the back. Tom saw the man’s eyes grow huge before he fell forward, landing with an audible thump on the stage.
Lark Keen continued to speak as his people slid Harris’ body off the platform. “As you can see, disobedience will not be tolerated. I’m not here to run a dictatorship, but you can’t simply attack me because you’re outraged.”
The room was silent, no one trusting themselves to speak. Tom peered over his shoulder, only to see Constantine’s AI lingering there. He wasn’t an illusion, that was for sure.
“As I was saying before your would-be Concord leader so rudely had himself killed… Your captain has agreed to our terms, which means we’re in control of Constantine. We’ll be heading to Concord space, escorted by your flagship, with me at the helm, and we will arrive at Nolix in… three days, give or take,” Keen said.
Tom only nodded glumly. If his people had found a way to power the ship up, they might still have a chance, but if not, at least his crew would be alive. He stared at Harris’ lifeless corpse on the floor and wished the man hadn’t been so impulsive. He’d been killed for his impatience.
There was a time when Thomas might have done the same thing, but he was older, more seasoned. He’d bide his time.
“Faen will be here soon to boost Constantine. From there, we’ll let your cells charge until we can move into hyperlight. We’ll be asking for your cooperation during the next few days.” Lark pointed at Harris. “Don’t be like your would-be leader.”
Tom peered toward Constantine’s AI again, and the projection lifted a hand, all five fingers spread out. He lowered his thumb. Tom realized what that meant.
Four minutes.
Until what, he couldn’t say.
____________
It might just work. She imagined the Andron was thinly stationed; perhaps the others were as well. Faen moved toward them, and Reeve smiled. This was going to take some cunning and timing.
She saw the life support had returned and Constantine was functional once again, meaning their communicators were coming online soon. She’d run to the electrical system’s section on Deck One right on time, and ensured the lights and consoles remained powered off. She didn’t want the invaders to learn what she was up to below deck.
Reeve was in her element, working the boiler room facilities like she owned the place. The hours of studying the systems and processes were paying off as she watched the tiny green lights flickering on the tablet.
She needed a distraction from Brax but hated putting him in danger.
The communicators were about to come online in five, four, three, two…
Reeve reached out to Cleo. “Brax, come in.”
> Nothing. She checked that the system was indeed powered on, and she attempted again. “Brax, it’s Reeve. I need your help.”
“It’s about time. We were getting bored hiding on this rock.” Hearing Brax’s voice gave her a confidence boost.
“Thank the Vastness.”
“What’s going on?” Brax asked.
“Baldwin’s here with the Assembly leader. They think Constantine is helpless, but they have something coming to them. Brax, I need you to distract Faen as they approach.”
“You’re going to destroy the classic ship?” he asked.
“You’d rather the alternative? Let them beat us?” she asked.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
She smiled to herself in the confines of the dark room. “Will you do it?”
“Of course. We’ll be there in a flash,” he said.
“Good. The sooner the better. I’ll have weapons operational in…” She checked the countdown. “Three minutes. I’m going to light them up.”
“The other ships will come for you,” he said. “I wish I could be there.”
“You can help me from where you are. Cleo’s far from helpless. Use the Stickers too. That’s what they’re there for,” she reminded him.
“Deal. Once Faen is gone, I’ll see about disabling one of the others. They might not see me coming,” he said. “What about Basker and his pilots?”
“I can’t communicate with them. Their hangars are still dark.”
“I wish we had the backup.”
“Just be careful, Brax,” she told him.
“Be ready.” She could tell he was already on the move; his voice always grew more tense as he roared through space in a small vessel.
“I am.” Reeve disconnected and sent Tarlen a message.
He responded, relaying the text confirmation of her plan.
Now all she needed to do was wait another two minutes.
____________
Ven wished there was more he could do as Cleo moved from the Belt toward the fleet. Brax was pushing her in-system thrusters as far as he was able, and they flew quickly at the boxy centuries-old cruise ship. He ran a scan on the ships, using probes he’d released earlier, and it seemed like they were sitting there patiently, not even bothering to add extra power from their drives to their shields.
The Assembly appeared to fear nothing from the solo ship, which to them was dead in space, the energy sucked out of her by a well-hidden device while they were on Nolix. This was it. The Assembly had set a trap, and Ven was glad to see they were fighting back. Before leaving his village, he’d only heard rumors of the outer worlds. Most of the time, his people, the Ugna, had less than flattering things to say about the majority of the Concord partners. Ven was seeing the opposite of that in his short tenure aboard Constantine.
These people were resilient, hard working, and trust-worthy. Other than Zare, it appeared.
“Okay, gentlemen. I’ll try to be as cautious as I can, but as the saying goes, without courage there would be no victories.” Brax flew straight at Faen, who hadn’t seemed to notice yet.
Ven had Constantine in his sights on the console, and the entire ship lit up in an instant, going from dark on the outside to bright and engaged. The weapons systems came to life, and pulses fired at Faen from the side of their cruise ship.
Faen took the hits on their shield, and Brax moved around the much larger ship, targeting and blasting them with his own barrage. The red beams cut from Cleo’s underside, the enemy shields glowing blue at the attack.
“They’re powering up their weapons,” Ven advised, and Brax nodded, continuing to strike out. They were closer to Faen than Ven would have taken them, but it seemed to work. From this proximity and speed, it appeared difficult for the older ship to track and fire. Each shot went wide, and Brax arced around the vessel with grace.
“Alert me when the shields break,” Brax told him, yelling as they pressed into their seat strapping.
Oquid grunted behind them, his head hitting the wall with a loud cracking sound. He slumped in his restraints. Even with the inertia tech, they were being tossed around by the quick directional changes, and Ven hoped he’d be able to discuss this with Reeve, if they made it out of this mess.
“Reeve, if you’re hearing this, target the center of the rear disk junction. I’ve hit it hard, and I don’t think I’ll be able to loop around again,” Brax told her, and Ven saw the pulses strike directly where Reeve’s brother had suggested a second ago.
“She seems to be proficient with the weapons system,” Ven told him.
Brax grunted. “She’s proficient with just about everything.”
“How was that?” Reeve’s voice carried through the speakers.
“Good job, sis. Now we only need to…”
Ven tapped him on the shoulder and pointed out the viewer. Remie, the infamous vessel of Captain Zole, was coming upon them, blasts erupting from the old tech weapons system – only these were no old-galaxy pulses. They struck with a force and energy that told Ven the Assembly had indeed upgraded their ships after stealing them.
“Reeve, I’m sending the Stickers. The rest is up to you!” Ven hoped Brax timed it right. Reeve kept firing at the same spot, and Faen’s shield finally broke, crating right where Brax sent the surface bomb.
They wouldn’t find out if it stuck until he detonated it, and Ven was lurched to the side as Remie hit them again. None of the ships were targeting Constantine yet, and that was probably because their leader was on board.
It wouldn’t do any good to lose your boss in a time like this. Ven glanced at Oquid, and noticed the Vralon man remained slumped in his seat, unconscious.
Brax was moving away from Faen, cutting around her to blind Remie from a line of sight. It worked. Ven smiled at Brax as they raced closer to their ship, and watched as the chief of security tapped the console. The detonation that erupted was intense: Faen’s left wing falling off first, then the rest of the vessel exploding one section at a time, until there were only hunks of the old relic remaining.
Ven cheered for the first time in his life, his voice joining Brax’s in an elated harmony, until the shot from Remie hit them. It tore through the shields, ripping Cleo’s ramp from the rear body. Oquid was pulled out of the ship, his straps tearing at the sudden vacuum pressure. They had their suits on, but they weren’t going to make it.
Ven saw his village in flashes; each beat of his heart brought more images to the front of his mind. Brax was shouting, but he hardly heard the man. Thump thump. Thump thump. The En’or left within his blood stream activated, and his pupils dilated.
With sudden clarity, he lifted his hands. He anchored to the ramp from a hundred meters away, floating through space, and pulled it in, as if there was an invisible rope tied to his fingers. He tugged at it, jerking the door toward them. It hit the side of the expedition ship, which had gone dark as the fuel cells leaked out. Liquid floated around them inside the cockpit, gravity no longer welcome on their vessel.
Ven kept pulling, using his powers to hold the door in place, and he grabbed a can of Seal-E, spraying it toward the exit. The foam spread, being partially sucked out of the room, but enough pressed into the cracks around the door as it dried.
Ven’s hands were shaking, his vision spinning as he performed one last act. Their ship was heading in the wrong direction, away from Constantine. There was no power left, and their suits had already been on for hours. There was only so much life support remaining inside them. If they were going to live, they needed to be found.
Remie sat ten kilometers away, looking enormous through the dark viewscreen. Ven pictured its hull, its shields, and Brax finally went silent as he watched. He pressed his hands forward, sending Cleo moving.
As the expedition vessel floated slowly toward Constantine, the heart of Ven Ittix, the first Ugna Executive Lieutenant in the Concord Fleet, stopped.
____________
“How did this happen?” Lark Keen was
furious. He was pacing the stage nervously as his people informed him that Faen had been destroyed. The power had flickered on a few times, and the blasts emerging from the sides of Constantine could be seen in flashes of light through the thick viewing windows on either edge of the courtyard.
“To the bridge. We’re going to the bridge!” Keen shouted, shoving Tom.
Tom could see Constantine’s projection was no longer there, and he grinned to himself.
“Stay here. Watch the crew!” Keen shouted to his guards, and they stood firmly, guns held up threateningly.
“Someone should go with you,” Zare said, not meeting Tom’s stare.
“Fine. Zare, you’re with us. Everyone else stays put!” Tom had never seen Lark this angry, but he was sure the man was about to snap. He was witnessing his life’s work falling apart at the seams, and Tom was here to witness it all firsthand.
They strode through the crowd toward the elevators, which were functioning once again. “I don’t know how you pulled this off, Baldwin, but I don’t care. This doesn’t change anything. I still have your people, and we’re sticking to the plan. Only you’re going to be called a monster, having killed the crew of Faen.”
Tom was shoved into the open elevator doors and stumbled, hitting the wall. He tasted blood from his lip. He wiped it with his sleeve and dared to respond. “Sure, me killing traitors to the Concord is generally frowned upon.”
“You’ll have no more record. I’ll be in charge, and you’ll be dead,” Lark Keen said, and for the first time that day, Tom saw the real man. He wasn’t an idealist with a misguided mentor; he was a power-hungry tyrant who’d stop at nothing to see his dreams come true.
Tom was about to retort but closed his mouth when Zare shook her head slightly. Maybe she was right. The elevator advised them they were at the bridge level, and the doors opened.
“Quite the ship you have here, Baldwin. Or should I say, had.” Lark shoved him forward.
Tom was the first onto the bridge, and the doors slammed shut as soon as Keen was through. Tom heard Zare banging against the entrance, calling for Keen, but they remained closed.
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 54